


Human Dignity

by saraid



Series: Panther Tales [2]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-23
Updated: 2012-05-23
Packaged: 2017-11-05 20:45:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/410841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saraid/pseuds/saraid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Panther & Chief are hired to take down a very bad man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human Dignity

*******

Padding silently through the cabin slowly, the small man stopped suddenly and turned hesitantly. His movement was abruptly lacking in grace and he took a quick step forward and then another to the left, and then stopped and stood still, quivering.

His eyes were closed.

The room was pitch black, heavy blue curtains drawn over the wall-sized window. But even in this darkness his hair shone faintly as if it had a light of it's own.

A small harsh sound of fright bubbled from his full mouth. Instantly another voice called softly from the half-open door at the back or the room. Filled with love, he relaxed as soon as he heard it and took a tentative step in that direction.

"Chief? What are you doing up and out there? Come back to bed, caro."

A smile spread across the beautiful face as the steps became sure and padded confidently into the back room, passing through the doorway without touching the door, and falling into the huge round suspended bed. At the center of it, in the lowest point, the large mercenary called Panther, who had once been Jim Ellison, pulled him against his chest and scolded quietly.

"What, you needed a drink and didn't want to wake me? Or you were hungry. Had to go to the bathroom..." he began rocking gently, the suspended structure of the bed letting it move lightly with him, like a waterbed would, while he listed the reasons Blair would get up in the middle of the night without waking him. Then he stopped and pulled away a bit, staring down at the blue eyes that sparkled up at his. "I know it's hard. I know you need space sometimes. But it's much easier if you separate when I'm awake. *You* know that."

With another small sound, this one muffled by the broad smooth chest, Blair clung to him. There was hitching catch in his breathing and Jim resumed rocking, still talking, crooning. His hands stroked soothingly through that hair.

"It's as hard for you as it is for me to be quiet for days on end. See, I'm even talking now, when I don't have to. But I get some comfort from the words love, I do. I love to say I love you and hear the words in my ears as well as my head and my heart."

Blowing a great sigh, Jim gradually laid back down, Blair cradled to his chest, concentrating on getting both of them back to sleep.

The bed continued to swing gently for some time.

* * * * * * *

It was a warm spring day. After lunch Jim returned to his labors by the lake. The mountains, still white-capped, soared around them and a fog was just now burning from the surface of the water. Their small boat - a twenty-foot two-sleeper - bobbed complacently at anchor.

Tearing up worn planks from the long dock that extended far into the water, he worked up a sweat, so he took off the shirt he was wearing and continued in his jeans.

After a few minutes of this he stopped and stood and looked back toward the cabin, 100 yards away. The curtains were open, but he couldn't see his partner, whom he'd left curled up in bed reading peacefully after the scare the night before.

"Stop that." he said aloud, but grinned widely. Then, shaking his head, he lay down the crowbar and turned to pad back down the path. As he walked his stride became more fluid, his posture changed, until there was something animal about him by the time he reached the back porch. With one hand he vaulted catlike over the railing, ignoring the stairs, and stalked into the dark interior of their home.

* * * * * * *

The message was simple. Retrieved from an email account that was backed up in a hundred different names - or more, Stephen really went overboard sometimes, but he enjoyed the hell out of it -- to protect it, it was as safe as it could get. Jim read it through twice.

Panther & Chief: we need your help.

We can pay your price. 940-767-0836

The number was one he recognized, and the words carefully phrased. 'We need your help', not 'We want to hire you'.

He sighed deeply.

Leaning over his shoulder, Blair ran a hand lightly over the screen, which softly glowed in a creamy color. It was the only light in the small room, which was packed with advanced computer components and electronics. Two large, comfortable office chairs rolled freely on smooth hardwood floors and the desk extended over three walls, the fourth taken up with filing cabinets and the door.

The words were harsher than usual, the ravaged voice suddenly taking more effort to use.

"Time to go."

* * * * * * *

Settled into the hotel room, Panther made the call. He sat on the large bed, leaning back so his body contacted the smaller one curled stiffly there.

"I'm in Cairo." he said when it was answered, not identifying himself. "The Savoy. Suite 213. Come alone."

He listened for a moment and glanced at his partner. The tense body hadn't moved in over a minute. As he watched it quivered and drew in a breath.

"Alright. But I'm trusting you here, Raman. Remember that I know you." with that cryptic threat, he hung up the phone.

There were two bags sitting by the door. They weren't unpacked because they wouldn't be staying here. No matter how well he knew someone or how much he trusted them, he would never, never sleep where they could find him until the deal was made.

And with most, not until the job went down, and then not unless it was absolutely necessary.

That night at the white House had been a unique exception. Lying back on the bed, he curled around his partner and waited for the contact to come.

* * * * * * *

Pausing in the hallway, Raman Amistanl put a hand out, barring his young protégé's progress. Mahu looked at him with narrowed eyes, immediately concerned.

"We have been rushing since we identified the target yesterday." he said in English. Panther would be listening, and he did not want the man to think they were trying to deceive him in any way. He had heard what happened to those who double-crossed the mercenary. Although he suspected that either Panther or his partner spoke Arabic, because they always knew things they shouldn't...but that wasn't the issue here. "I have not had time to tell you about these men."

"You mean this man. There is only one of him, yes?" Mahu's English wasn't as good as Raman's, he was the product of public schools, saved from a life of manual labor only by his cunning and grasp of diplomacy.

"There is the Panther, and there is his partner, the Chief." he made the names titles.

"He has a partner? Why is this not in the files?"

"The files barely acknowledge even Panther's existence."

Raman pointed out gently. It was a deal he had made years ago with the mercenary, in return for a very private favor. A nephew, much loved by his sister, who loved the wrong sex...now living safely in America. "This will be difficult for you. Consider it a test. Panther and Chief are *together*."

Dark eyes widened and disgust spread too easily across rather coarse features.

"In the eyes of Allah..." he began indignantly, but one sharp look from Raman, one glance that turned his genial face from friendly to deadly in the space of seconds, made him swallow the rest of the words.

"You do not speak to the Chief. You do not stare at him or ask Panther about him. And, above all, you do not *touch* him." pausing, Raman let his gaze drift to he door only a few feet away, knowing what they would find behind it. "I saw it happen once. The woman who accosted them, a rich woman in a high position, she desired the man. She is beautiful again, but the doctors had to work hard to repair the damage. And Chief..." he couldn't describe the pain of the cry that had filled the small room that night. The mission had been scrapped, the mercenary had gathered up his lover and simply vanished. It had taken Raman nearly two years of cautious contact to repair the damage.

Panther's friendship - or as close as it could come - was too valuable to lose over a man's prejudices.

"They have their gods, Mahu, and we have ours. As Allah is merciful, he will know what these men have suffered and judge them accordingly.

With a slow nod, Mahu once again lived up to Raman's expectations. Although his curiosity was clear on his face, he did not ask anything further.

"I understand. I will not embarrass you."

"Good." sparing him a smile, Raman stepped forward and knocked on the door.

"It's open." the voice was as cool and hard as he remembered, but there was a twist at the side of Panther's mouth that could have been a smile when they stepped into the luxurious room.

Seated on the side of the bed, he was fully dressed, in black as always. Raman smiled a greeting, and let his eyes slide past the large figure to the smaller one curled behind him.

Covered with a blanket, a black coat and boots sitting at the foot of the bed, he appeared asleep. But Raman knew appearances with these two were always deceiving.

"It's good to see you, my friend." he held out a hand and the mercenary shook it. He did not rise, as Raman had known he would not.

"I heard of your promotion." Panther smiled widely now, but it was still a cold expression.

"Thank you for the flowers. My wife was flattered." the bouquet had been tasteful and expensive and a graceful reminder of their connection when he took his new post.

"He picked them out." shrugging carelessly, Panther leaned back slightly, one hand resting lightly on the blanket-covered side that rose and fell so slowly. "I would have sent something practical. A bucket of grenades."

Raman laughed with honest amusement. Since Panther had introduced it, he knew could now safely inquire after the other man. Beside him, Mahu was watching, doing what he did best.

People underestimated him because of his looks, but he learned much this way, and was wise enough to know it was his greatest gift.

Raman spoke quietly, sincerely. "How is Chief? Tired from your journey?"

A sharp look, and then a nod as the face softened slightly.

"Tired, yes. We have been alone for a while. Being back around other people..." he shrugged, moving too gracefully for such a large man.

"A strain, yes, I know." waving to Mahu, Raman waited for him to pull over two chairs. Panther lifted the bedside phone and spoke quietly.

"This is 213. Please send what I ordered." replacing it, he nodded at Raman. "Food is coming."

"Thank you." knowing that there would be a selection of delicacies he could seldom afford, the Moslem agent was again impressed with the ease of this man. "This is my assistant, Mahu." he introduced him by first name only as the younger man sat beside him.

Panther's eyes narrowed slightly and Raman could see his nostrils flare as he scented. Behind him, the smaller man stirred and made a tiny sound. Panther's big hand stroked him and he calmed again.

"You've chosen one to train, I see." meeting his eyes, Panther asked for the truth.

"Yes." Raman gave it. "He will follow me."

Slowly the mercenary extended his hand. Mahu swallowed almost invisibly and shook it. Raman could see the strictures against touching the unclean running through his mind.

The mercenary understood how things were done here. He didn't ask about the case until the food was delivered and eaten, his own appetite as good as their's. A small table was placed between the chairs and the bed so he would not have to move. When the plates were cleared away and they were left with small cups of hot tea - he chose coffee, black - the smaller man stirred again, and turned over.

Raman watched with anticipation as the blue eyes opened - he had only seen them twice before - and was rewarded with a flash of beauty that made his heart ache.

Still lying curled on the bed, the younger man reached a hand from beneath the blankets to rest it on Panther's leg. The mercenary looked down at him tenderly and took it in his own, holding it gently.

"Yes, Raman is here. Would you like to wake up and listen as we talk?" he asked. Then the smile softened and he shook his head lightly. "You don't have to. Sleep as long as you need, caro."

Blinking at him, Chief offered a small, shy smile of great sweetness. Beside him Raman heard Mahu gasp and hoped that he was beginning to understand. Hesitantly, the agent addressed the small man directly.

"It is good to see you, Chief. Panther looks well."

A quick nod and the smile brightened briefly. Then it faded as the eyes slid closed again and he rested back into the bed, his hand still held in Panther's, resting on the mercenary's leg.

Panther was staring at him, one eyebrow raised.

Meeting the piercing blue eyes with his own dark ones, Raman looked for censure of his action. But Panther's eyes showed only wary friendship and an overwhelming sadness.

"Tell me how I can help you." he said. His free hand moved to join the other holding the small one. The cuff of his shirt slid up, revealing the metal band that was almost a part of him.

Out of the corner of his eye Raman saw Mahu make note of it.

"There is a man -- a slaver -- that we have been hunting for many years." the words were half-embarrassed. His country didn't acknowledge the existence of the slave trade publicly, and only under duress did they do so privately. "He has been spotted here, in Cairo. We want to stop him."

Panther waited patiently, knowing there was more. Raman nodded at Mahu, telling him to pick up the tale.

"This man is named William Franklin. He was once American. There has long been a power struggle going on between him and a Brazilian organization. Three months ago it resulted in the death of Franklin's two eldest sons and their families. He has no deputies in a position to take over the business, and none who have the power base to hold it together if they did."

He paused and they both watched the Panther's eyes narrow as he thought through the ramifications of what he had been told.

Behind him Chief stirred again, fretfully, and shifted so that he was lying more curled around the big man's leg. Changing gears smoothly, the mercenary lifted his head with one hand and his shoulders with another and the man quieted, his head now pillowed on panther's thighs, face turning to press into his stomach, arms curled close to his own slender body. The long tight braid trailed to the floor like a heavy silver rope.

"Tell me about him." the words were flat with resignation, and Raman knew that he had yet to be convinced.

Between the two of them he and Mahu gave a detailed description of Franklin's operations. A legitimate businessman in Europe, here he dealt only in human flesh stolen from third-world countries or bought from their families in the poorer regions of more advanced places. They were traded for sex, for organ transplants, for manual labor...for a dozen harsh, cruel purposes and more. To staff the child-brothels of countries like Thailand and Hong Kong, to work the mines in Brazil, as guinea pigs in unregulated experiments in third world laboratories.

This last brought a cloud of anger to Panther's face and the hand lightly stroking his lover's body tightened and gripped.

Wondering, Raman dared not ask. That would be crossing the line the mercenary had so clearly established throughout their relationship.

"We know you have done this before." he finished some hours later, after the recitation and questions and clarifications.

"You realize that we cannot have this tied to my government or even my country. To have it exposed..." he trailed off and just shook his head, unable to express the horror of that thought.

A quick nod and twisted smile showed that the mercenary understood.

"I need proof before I kill someone for you." he said it flatly, as if he were talking about buying a minor stock option.

"We'll give you copies of everything we have."

Chief sat suddenly, and crawled into the older man's lap, wrapping himself around him, making that horrible unhappy noise again. It sounded like a wounded kitten mewling. Cradling him close with both arms, Panther glared at them briefly and then his face filled with unhappiness.

"We need our own proof. Arrange for us to meet him."

The Chief trembled visibly and Mahu opened his mouth, on the verge of saying something, but a sharp movement of Raman's hand cut him off.

"Of course. There will be a reception at the American Embassy tomorrow night. You will come as my guests."

"Formal dress, I suppose." the words were appropriate, a man long tired of the required trappings, but the tone was all wrong. Almost angry. Chief still shook and made that *sound*

The two guests tried to ignore the almost silent anguished mewling, but it grated on their nerves.

"We will stay with you." Raman assured him, suddenly understanding at least a part of the problem. In a large crowded ballroom protecting the Chief from casual contact could become problematical. "Shield you."

Mahu's glance was disbelieving, but Panther relaxed fractionally.

"I will send a car." Raman said, standing. There was no more to be done now. "The documents will be sent by courier tonight...where shall I send them?"

"The Four Season's dining room." giving no details -- not when they would be eating there or even if -- Panther briefly removed a hand from Chief's body to shake Raman's briskly. The smaller man was still trembling, but the noise had tapered off.

"Until tomorrow." leaving quickly, Raman made a gesture at Mahu when the man would have spoken, waiting until they were out of the building before he allowed the younger man to speak.

Surely Panther could not hear them at this distance.

"That was...strange." Mahu said at his nod. "Disgusting, but oddly beautiful."

"That has been the reaction I have always had to them." unlocking their vehicle with his thumbprint, Raman nodded at him to continue.

"What happened to him?" it was asked simply, the curiosity underlay with some measure of pity.

"We do not know. There are no records. I think they were Americans, but we can't be sure. Everything I've ever seen tells me that they were tortured, insanely so. Perhaps that is what drew them together in this strange way."

"The Panther -- he seems to need the other man as much as the other one needs him."

"The Chief is the support. I'm pleased that you saw that. I have seen too many who saw them, met them, and came away thinking that Chief is only the shadow and Panther protects him because they are lovers."

"There is more than that there." unable to find the words, Mahu sounded stilted, but Raman nodded as he started the vehicle.

"Much more. More than we will ever know. Whatever you do -- never ask."

The eyes of his protege studied him as they returned to their offices, wondering if Raman spoke that way because he had once made that mistake himself.

* * * * * * *

"You look so beautiful."

Glancing at them up from the file in his hands, from the rear-facing seat of the limousine, Mahu saw Raman following his look.

In keeping with the code of the evening, Panther was wearing a starkly tailored black tuxedo. Very conservative, with a plain white shirt and high buttoned collar substituting for a tie.

The earring he wore seemed to pick up the light around it and swallow it whole. He looked grim and foreboding. As dangerous, perhaps, as he actually was.

But Chief...

The black tuxedo was expertly cut, leaving Raman to wonder if they had come prepared or simply found an excellent tailor and paid top dollar. Of course, they could have had them shipped overnight from wherever it was they lived. Surely such successful men in their fields had retainers, assistants?

Perfectly fitted, it showed clearly that the man was not as slight as his usual bulky garb would indicate. His shoulders were broad and his body slender, but he looked somehow sturdier out of the concealing long coat.

His shirt was blue, a very dark blue, plain and he wore a jeweled button-cover over the top button. It sparkled brightly.

With no hat to cover it, that hair was pulled tightly back and the braid, woven through with a narrow strip of black velvet, was tied at the end with the same material.

The eyes were hidden again, this time behind futuristic wrap-around sunglasses with oval frames of matte-finished metal.

With a shrug, the smaller man turned away from the larger at the words, resting his forehead against the darkly tinted window.

His hand remained on the mercenary's thigh, idly stroking, petting restlessly.

"It's been a very long time since I saw you like this, caro." Panther pressed, capturing the hand and bringing it to his lips for a swift kiss to the palm. The fingers curled reflexively and he replaced it on his leg, still speaking softly. "Hard, yes, you know I know that."

Watching the interplay, Raman was startled to realize how easily he accepted it. It had been many years since he allowed himself to wonder what it was they were doing when Panther listened like that and replied to unspoken words.

A look at Mahu proved that he was asking himself those very questions right now, and his trainer shook his head at him in warning.

"What is it the Americans say?" he said quietly, knowing Panther could hear him and hoping he would take it as an indication of Raman's friendship. "Don't go there?"

A sideways glance from dark thinking eyes and then Mahu looked away, out the window as well.

They drove silently through the streets of the old city.

* * * * * * *

The Embassy was an exquisite historical building on the far edge of town, in a well-protected compound surrounded by landscaped lawns and gardens and state-of-the-art security. They released their invitations as the gate, although the marine guard did look at them long and hard. Raman had visited may times before and the man had never seen these men before. Chief was still looking out the window and didn't respond when he spoke to them.

"Mr. Amistanl." his pronunciation was perfect. "These are the members of your party?"

"Yes." he said it causally, experienced at this game.

"If you would introduce them to me I can have you announced when you arrive."

"I prefer to avoid fanfare." Raman said.

"Yes, sir." with that and one last lingering glance at the two strangers in the back seat, the guard passed them on.

 

Hung with glittering chandeliers, the walls covered with vibrant red silk damask, the floor highly polished gold-veined white marble...the ballroom was a nightmare for Panther. And that wasn't counting the nearly two hundred people circulating through it, all of them with their own scents and sounds.

Pausing behind Raman at the foot of the staircase that led downward into the grand room, he reached behind himself and gently tugged on Chief's arm.

"I need you." he said simply. Turning, Raman watched, eyes widening in surprise, as the younger man came into sight unwillingly, allowing Panther to wrap an arm around his waist and tuck him close to the larger man's side. He returned the embrace with one arm and stuffed the other into the pocket of his trousers on the outside.

Looking down at him, Panther waited until the blank eyes of the still-present sunglasses were turned up toward him.

"I know. I do say that a lot." there was a flicker of expression on his hard face -- amusement -- and then it was gone and only the cold man was left as he spoke softly again. It took Raman a second to realize it was directed at him.

"We're ready."

The receiving line was the first challenge. American diplomats, honored guests, etc. Raman moved before the pair, careful to keep at least part of his body between Chief and the passing crowd at all times, taking his promise seriously. Mahu trailed them on the outside, all it had taken was one glance from Raman for him to understand his position. He was too buffer chief from the crowd, which he did, watching everything with those eyes of his that saw so much.

Panther proved to be a revelation in this setting. He became friendly, as if he had pulled on a mask. The agent couldn't help but wonder if this was his real self, or just very good acting. He shook hands, made the appropriate noises and deflected questions with a skill that could only come from practice.

Reading the man's eyes, Raman decided it was an Oscar-quality performance..

When they reached the end of the line, where Franklin, as a distinguished guest, was stationed with his own entourage, Chief shrank visibly back into Panther's body, obviously wishing to take up his normal position in hiding. Raman glanced questioningly at Panther, who shook his head in warning.

"Too many people too close." he said, so quietly the agent almost didn't hear it.

"Well, well, Raman." the man sounded genuinely pleased to see him. With a proper diplomatic smile Amistanl shook his hand and moved that next step on, smoothly introducing Panther as he did so.

"Yes, Mr.Franklin. This is a colleague of mine, Josef Sabowitz." he watched as the man shook hands with the mercenary who had been hired to kill him.

To the agent he moment felt stunningly surreal.

Franklin obviously felt safe here, he had only one bodyguard present and he shook Panther's hand jovially. His eyes lingered on Chief's non-expressive face and when Panther released the hand after an appropriate amount of time, he reached for the young man.

"And who is this handsome fellow?" the words bordered on sarcastic.

Raman prepared to intercede, but Panther handled it smoothly. Stepping back just far enough to remove Chief from the slaver's reach, he leaned and pressed a kiss to the younger man's head, smiling rather inanely at Franklin as he did so.

"A new toy and I'm not much in the mood to share, if you know what I mean."

Shocked, holding his breath, Raman waited to see how Franklin would react. Had Panther read the man correctly? Would he be amused or offended?

"Well, if you're still around when that happens, be sure to look me up, eh?" there was a definite edge of nudge-nudge, wink-wink to Franklin's words.

"It may be a very long time." Turning and walking away with Chief practically clinging to him, Panther led them all to a far wall, where he took refuge in a small alcove designed for conversation.

Raman was greeted and spoken to by many people, but he brushed them all off genially and followed the mercenary. Catching up to him, he watched as the big man pulled the smaller into an embrace and spoke over his head.

"We've met him before." he said flatly. "I didn't have a name and I've had no chance to research it. We didn't realize he was such high-class scum, he was just a pig then."

"Good, then you know what has to be done."

Twisting himself, Chief looked back at Raman. Panther soothed him with easy strokes of his big hands. Mahu was basically standing watch from behind Raman.

"What will happen to his business when it's done? Will the Brazilian rival just take over? That won't accomplish anything." Panther sounded irritated.

Seeing the blank mirrored eyes staring at him, Raman wondered who was asking the question. Chancing it, he directed the answer at Chief.

"The Brazilian man isn't in a position to take over. I have other people set up to move on my command. They will go in and take out the rest of Franklin's organization. The supply route will be destroyed, and it should be a good while before anyone else puts together the strength to restart it."

"And then we'll have another to deal with." Chief turned back away and curled his body into Panther's. Gradually the mercenary moved away until there was some room between them and Chief was only touching him with his hands, which gripped the lapels of his jacket tightly.

The Panther stepped from the hidey-hole and began walking slowly toward the buffet. Quickly Raman paced him, on Chief's side, Mahu trailing behind now.

"We will need a place to rest for a little while after I talk to Franklin." the words were typical Panther: cold, hard, unemotional. "I won't do it here, tonight, and I do need to speak to him first, preferably in private."

"He was interested..." Raman nodded toward the small man.

"Not for my life." the growl was so low the agent almost didn't hear it. "I will watch him. Eventually he will go someplace...outside or upstairs or to the john, and I can speak to him without all of these people around."

 

The mercenary fit into the party amazingly well. Since he was here the other guests assumed he was wealthy and the wealthy were expected to be eccentric, though perhaps not so much as the large man with the pretty boy-toy that hid behind dark glasses was. There were several overheard comments about movies stars and rocks stars and speculations as to the identity of the beautiful young man that clung to him so tenaciously.

After nibbling from the buffet - Panther had a soldier's stomach, he could eat anything under any conditions, but Chief ate sparingly of small fruits and vegetables - the agent was concerned when Panther led the smaller man onto the dance floor, which was crowded, but his skill at directing them around it kept a buffer of space between his partner and the other couples.

Watching from the side, several feet from a wall, near a door that led outside for easy egress if needed, Raman watched thoughtfully.

They danced for several songs. Once Raman could have sworn he saw a smile on the Chief's face, something he'd never seen in public before. Panther's grace wasn't a surprise, but the ease of his movements was...they must dance, the agent thought. He grinned suddenly, unreasonably pleased to note this proof that these men had a life somewhere that involved at least a touch of happiness.

Beside him Mahu nudged him discreetly and nodded toward the other side of the dance floor. Franklin was making his way over, his current mistress, a beautiful but relatively stupid woman, on one arm, bodyguard trailing behind.

Tensing, Raman prepared for an altercation. But Panther must have seen them coming, because he concluded the dance with a final turn and then, Chief tucked safely to his side, melted into the crowd around the bar. There weren't more than fifty people there, yet he managed to vanish almost completely, so well that even Raman lost sight of him.

"What was that?" Mahu strained his eyes. Franklin came to a stop, looking about him, bewildered.

"If I didn't know better I would say 'magic'." Raman answered. He continued to look for the mercenary, but was distracted when he saw another man, one that he did not recognize, heading toward him purposefully.

Changing his stance, shifting to look both welcoming and curious, he readied himself for any inquiries that might come.

The man was so completely average looking that Raman found himself mildly envious. Wearing a good tuxedo but not an overly expensive one, he had the same quiet look about him that Raman had seen in Mahu, only more directed. His muddy brown eyes weren't attractive, but they were very intelligent.

A man who watched. A man who learned.

A man who could be dangerous.

 

Stepping up, the stranger extended a hand and spoke in Arabic. His accent was thick, but the grammar was good.

"Hello. I'm Mike Cullen. I just arrived here this month, I'm an international business coordinator for IBM."

The title meant nothing to Raman, but the name was important.

"Cullen?" he spoke English, wondering why the other man hadn't. "You used to be with..."

"Yes, the American government." the man cut in smoothly, still speaking Arabic. "I was watching the dancing and I saw that we have an acquaintance in common."

Covering his shock almost completely, Raman released the hand he had shaken.

"You've met Mahu?" he gestured toward his student.

"I've met Panther." Cullen said firmly.

"I do no know who you mean." smiling genially, Raman spread his hands before him and shrugged.

"But I do."

The voice behind him startled them all, and Raman turned quickly. Panther stood so still...and Chief was half behind him again. They had come through the garden doors without even disturbing the others.

"How have you been, Cullen?" he asked, offering a hand. The American shook it firmly, a real smile on his face to match the shadow of one on the mercenary's.

"Life has gotten interesting. I've changed jobs."

"I had heard." the words were dry. Raman noted that the American did not address Chief. He knew the rules, then.

But when blank eyes peered from behind the strong form, though, Cullen looked directly at the younger man, making Raman hold his breath.

It was as if the orchestra knew that this moment was of importance, because the music rose and swelled as the room fell into one of those unplanned, untimed, completely normal hushes that seemed somehow predestined.

"Chief. Have you been well?" Cullen extended a hand and held it in midair almost casually.

Seeing the tension on Panther's face the Raman was about to say something to the presumptuous American when he saw something that might just change his worldview.

The young man called Chief smiled, very sweetly and shyly, and reached to grasp Cullen's hand.

The American did not really shake it, but merely held it for a moment, smiling as gently as he would toward a small child.

The moment held.

And then the hand was released and Chief pulled in closer to Panther, who tightened his grip on the slender body and nodded at Cullen.

"Well, I have other people to greet, and only a short time to do so." the American said nonchalantly, speaking as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. "I hope to see you again, while you are in Cairo?"

"We don't plan on visiting for long this trip." other information was passed between these sentences.

"Since I've changed positions and I'm traveling frequently now, perhaps you would like a card? It has my international number." producing a leather holder, Cullen paused.

Panther glanced at Chief. Chief looked from Panther to Cullen and back again. Cullen looked at Panther.

Raman stared flabbergasted at all of them.

"Yes, that could be...helpful." Panther said at last. Chief made a small sound and ducked his face into the larger man's chest.

Cullen produced a plain white business card and handed it over. Panther tucked it carelessly into the breast pocket of his shirt.

"Take care." the American said as he turned away, leaving Raman somewhat confused and more than curious.

Panther just met his eyes with that cold, measuring stare.

There was another moment as Raman thought things through and asked himself why he had never been allowed to shake the other man's hand or speak to him directly...seeing his soul reflected in the fierce blue eyes that held his own, he decided that he didn't want to know after all.

"Franklin has started up the stairs." Mahu spoke deferentially. Panther was immediately refocused. He nodded at Raman as he spoke to Chief.

"We're going to follow him," he said it gently. It seemed to Raman that this was something the younger man did not want to do, for he clutched at Panther more tightly. "Only once, caro. You only have to do it once, and then I'll help you clean your mind..." he paused, listening, as he did, to something the others could not hear. When they first met Raman had watched Chief, but there was no evidence that the man was speaking; his mouth didn't move, his expression -- as much as one could decipher with those sunglasses on -- never changed.

But they were conversing. He *knew* that. Being a practical man and not given to flights of fancy or tolerating them well in others, he had yet to find an explanation for this that he could live with comfortably. So he chose again not to think about it.

"Follow us. Find a place where we can have privacy." the big man instructed.

* * * * * * *

William Franklin had apparently been assigned guest quarters upstairs. The marine guard at the head of the stairs raised a hand to Panther and Chief but waved them on when Raman nodded at him.

Following the man, Panther began a conversation with Raman.

Startled, the other man caught up quickly and they spoke like old friends.

"So, how is your sister? I haven't heard a word about her since the last time I was here. Her son is doing well, I suppose?"

"Both of my nephews are very well, yes." allowing some real emotion to touch both his voice and eyes, Raman smiled. This was so easy, talking to this man. They were two of a kind.

Panther was reminding him of what he owed the mercenary, and, at the same time, telling him that he was going to see or learn something that the mercenary would rather keep quiet.

They thought alike, Raman and Panther.

As they caught up to Franklin and Mahu signaled from just ahead of them that he'd found an empty room, Raman thought briefly that perhaps that was why Chief would not touch or speak to him.

It could be that Cullen had lived a better life.

He banished the thought, concentrating on the task at hand...making small talk until Panther did whatever it was he was going to do.

 

When it happened it was very quick. Although he was looking for it, Raman still almost missed it.

Although the hallway was wide, as befit the opulent interior of the mansion, Panther somehow stumbled sideways as he and Chief passed Franklin, who was walking slowly, speaking quietly to his woman, his bodyguard still behind them. The guard moved smoothly, stepping between them, but Chief had apparently lost his balance.

As Panther recovered in this graceless dance, the smaller man lost contact with him and wavered and Franklin, being the closest, automatically reached a hand to steady him, catching him by the arm.

Panther pulled him away quickly, but not too quickly for Raman to watch the color drain from the already-pale face.

With a low sound of pain Chief crumpled, and Panther caught him into his arms, lifting him like a child.

"Is he alright?" sounding honestly worried, Franklin stepped closer as Panther glanced around. Taking his cue, Raman stepped between them and spoke reassuringly.

"He's not feeling well, we were just coming up to find him a place to rest..." and then Mahu reacted just as he should, again living up to Raman's belief in him. Opening the door of the room he had already scouted, he called quietly to them and beckoned.

"This room is empty, bring him in here." he said, his stilted English still to his benefit.

Now almost as pale as his apparently unconscious partner, Panther strode into the room swiftly, leaving Raman to deal with the slaver.

"Should we call a doctor?" Franklin asked nervously, his eyes following the men's departure as they ducked into the room and Mahu shut the door, taking a defensive position before it.

"He has a recurrent illness." Raman spoke smoothly. "His partner knows how to care for him."

"Interesting man, that Sabowitz..."

Stuck in the conversation, Raman hoped Mahu was listening closely to the mercenary's actions behind the closed door.

 

"Chief? Wake up, caro. It's over now. We know what we need to know...please, chara, mausi, wake up...I've got you....yesss..."

Standing outside the door, listening as intently as he could to the soft words from the man inside, Mahu Neiradi was confused.

Not by the love he heard in the voice, but by his own reaction to it.

All of his life he had been taught that to love another man made one unclean, unworthy of life. But after only two meetings these men had made him question that belief. The problem was how did he question that and not everything else he had been taught?

Raman had warned him of this confusion, had told them that he would one day experience it, and he had scoffed, confident in his convictions.

Now he would have to ask the older man how *he* reconciled the differences that plagued Mahu now.

The voice inside continued, speaking calmly, soothingly. It was, perhaps, growing a little rougher.

"I know, I know, I know...I felt it too. Like submerging yourself in a sewer. I can clean that from you, Chief...yes. Just lie back and let me wash those memories from your mind..."

Mildly alarmed now, Mahu made a small gesture with his hand, urging Raman to finish his conversation and come to his aide.

"My associate seems to suddenly require my presence." Raman forced a friendly smile to his face. "I suppose he needs to get back downstairs to pursue that young woman he was speaking to earlier."

Matching the smile with a knowing one of his own that almost made the Raman gag, Franklin excused himself. He and his woman, who had remained silent for the entire exchange, resumed their course down the hall, the bodyguard giving Raman a narrow-eyed look of suspicion as he passed.

"What is it?" standing casually beside his protege, Raman stuffed his hands in his pockets, a highly uncharacteristic gesture, and leaned back on the door, cocking a knee. Anyone passing would have taken them for two men simply taking a break from the festivities below.

"They, they are, I do not know how to say..." seeing his student so flustered, Raman nodded knowingly.

"I had thought they might. I have seen this before. They require some form of - contact - occasionally, and not always when we would expect it."

"I can *hear* them." greatly distressed, Mahu twisted his already homely face into an ugly grimace.

"We can watch as well from across the way." moving to lean on the wall across the hall from the door, Raman smiled at Mahu's obvious relief. "You would think a place like this would have thicker doors." he teased.

Mahu stared and then found a smile to match the other man's.

"You would think they would." he agreed.

They passed the time with talk of their families, neither of them ready to discuss the new thoughts the younger man was having.

Raman was proud to see him taking the steps he needed to broaden his thinking.

 

 

"Yes, love, yes, it's okay, okay now..." rolling to his back and taking his shaking partner with him, Panther used his great strength to position the younger man above him, and then carefully lowered him onto the erection that stood so proudly between them. Without Blair's active cooperation it was a delicate affair, but years of practice had taught him the necessary control.

The first thing he had done after entering the room was undress them both, knowing from past experience that they would need full body contact to cleanse themselves from this. Their clothing was folded on the chair he had moved beside the bed, the dark sunglasses on top of the pile. This was a level of trust he had not previously shown Raman, the agent had better live up to it.

When he was buried as deeply inside his lover as he could go, Jim pulled Blair's body down to his chest and crushed him tightly with his arms for a moment. Then one hand began stroking through the braid, loosening the fall of hair, while the other ran repeatedly from shoulder to thigh, soothing. The motion continued while the shaking grew worse and a strangled sob leaked from Blair's mouth, pressed to the skin beneath Jim's chin as he hid his face in the older man's neck.

His hands clutched at Jim's shoulders. He cried like an animal, harsh sobs and terrible sounds. Dry-eyed, Panther held and soothed him and spoke quietly, more for his own comfort than his partner's, because Blair no longer needed the words.

"Remember the first time? How awful it was? They kept us apart so long and when they forced us together...I was terrified I would hurt you, I had so little control left. I needed you so bad. But hearing them, knowing they were watching... it gave me the strength I needed to slow down, to touch you the way you deserve to be touched, with reverence and love. Yes, love, yes. See? It's okay now. It's going away...just the two of us. Safe, together...ah, caro. You feel so good."

After some unmeasured time the sobs calmed and the smaller body shivered with another emotion. Then large hands lifted the tear-stained face and a velvet tongue lapped away the salty traces before Jim kissed him deeply.

"Ready, now?" pushing gently, he encouraged Blair to sit, the movement forcing his cock deeper into him. That brought a low moan from the bigger man, who reached to grasp the slender square hips tightly as Blair began to move.

Flat on his back, his head resting lightly on the pillows, great chest heaving as he panted, the mercenary watched the beautiful face of his love as those wonderful eyes slid shut and the younger man sank inside himself.

With his hands flat on Panther's chest, Chief rode him slowly, until the pain was completely faded and all that was left was the connection between them. Climaxing in tremendous silent waves, they both rested, sated, for some time after.

 

 

When they emerged from the room almost two hours later, Raman and Mahu were still across the hall, talking quietly, eating from a plate that the younger man had gone downstairs to fill. They greeted the partners with casual smiles and a kind glance from Raman for Chief.

Keeping the slender body tucked close, Panther lifted a salmon-covered cracker from the plate and ate it slowly before speaking.

"I'll do it at the airport. When he leaves. Do you want it accidental?"

"I think obvious would have more of an impact." Raman said slowly. He wasn't about to start telling this man how to do things.

"Let's talk price." choosing a puff of pastry-covered brie this time, Panther fed it to Chief, who ate it from his fingers daintily, like a small cat. Continuing to feed him, Panther negotiated the price of an assassination.

* * * * * * *

"Tickets under ten names on twelve different flights." with a sudden grin, Panther shook his head slightly, his free hand resting on Chief's knee as the smaller man curled into the seat next to him. They had been sitting at this gate for an hour now, waiting for the boarding call. Patting the knee, he then squeezed it gently. "Stephen is enjoying this far too much."

A flash of wry grin from Chief made the one on Panther's face widen.

"He is good at it, that's true...but he doesn't have to like it so much."

They were just two more people in the crowd. The seats Panther had chosen were situated on the wall in a corner, away from the others. The row of four was taken up by the two of them and their luggage.

"Okay." serious now, Panther leaned and stroked the younger man's cheek. "I'm going. I'll be out of range for a while, perhaps thirty minutes. You'll be alright?"

A negative shake of the head answered that.

"Neither will I." leaning, the big man kissed him tenderly, and then stood, pulling away completely. "One hour at the most. If I don't come back you know which flight to take."

A nod. The beautiful face was still and pale.

"I'll talk to you the whole time. Don't be afraid, caro."

"W-Won't." the word was low and broken but the mercenary beamed when he heard it.

Then he turned and strode into the crowd, his movement changing, flowing, and the younger man returned to his previous position. Still and silent, he looked asleep.

Or perhaps dead.

 

"Excuse me. Is this seat taken?"

The voice disturbed the silent man. At the ticket desk the clerk saw the woman standing over the small man.

A crisp new $50 rested heavily in his pocket. When the big man had asked him to keep an eye on his brother, he had accepted the money thinking it would be an easy take, but now there was actually someone bothering the guy. And, if the expression on his face was anything to go by, he was scared shitless.

"Ma'am, let me find you a seat over here..." crossing the crowded waiting area quickly, he took her bag and led her, protesting, away from his charge. It was only right that he should earn the money.

When he had the woman settled, he glanced back and saw that the younger man had returned to his previous position. It seemed odd that he was still wearing sunglasses and a heavy coat in the warmth of the overcrowded airport. But he seemed to be okay, so the clerk returned to his duties at the desk, where the line had grown longer as while he took care of the problem.

Faced with yes another irate customer who didn't want to wait any longer, the man sighed. Too bad all of his problems weren't solved that easily.

* * * * * * *

Stepping into the private first-class waiting room bathroom, William Franklin checked it carefully. The recent loss of his sons had made him far more paranoid. He'd loved the boys and missed his grandchildren terribly, but this was the way it was.

He still had time to start another family, once he found the right woman. One who didn't spend too much money of ask too many questions.

Waving to the bodyguard, he shut the door and stepped into the stall. Busy with his business, he didn't notice the ceiling panel that lifted silently away above him.

And he didn't have time to really feel the bullet as it popped his head like a balloon, the hiss of a one-time use handcrafted silencer barely louder than breathing. The sounds his brain made splattering over the wall made more noise.

The ceiling tile dropped back into place and the mess that had once been William Franklin was left for his bodyguard to find, with some relief, minutes later when he began to worry.

* * * * * * *

Disposing of the last of the disassembled parts of the single-use weapon when he flushed, it was made from molded biodegradable plastic, Panther emerged from the crowded public restroom straightening his tie and buttoning his long coat. A group of airport security men hurried by and he stepped politely out of their way, making no eye contact, smiling vacantly.

It took almost fifteen minutes walking steadily to get back to the other terminal, where Chief waited tensely. Standing before him, gathering up their bags, the mercenary spoke quietly.

"Decision time, caro. Three flights leaving in the next thirty minutes, where do you want to go?"

A tiny shiver ran through his partner's body as the younger man stood, his hand latching on to Panther to steady himself before he took his own small personal bag from the next chair.

"Yes, I think that would be nice." Jim agreed as they began walking, Blair behind him, shielded by his bulk, one hand clenched tightly into the fabric of his coat, which no doubt was constantly wrinkled from that grip. "It should be warm there now, and you can lie on the beach...I'm sure he will be very glad to see us, Chief. No, he doesn't understand, but he's still our friend and he'll always protect us. That's why he watches the house for us, right? Retirement hasn't changed him much, has it?..."

Speaking quietly, the words only meant to keep the younger man calm as they passed through the crowd and the threat it represented, Panther heard the last boarding call for flight 1311 to New York and quickened his step. They had to make it to catch their connecting flight to Florida.

The observant clerk glanced at them as they left and nodded as he suddenly understood why the young man had needed watching.

 

The flight was delayed at the gate for over an hour. Chief dozed while Panther read the latest bestselling spy novel, grinning occasionally. His hearing was tuned high and directed back into the airport, where security was busy making excuses and the local cops were making sarcastic comments about stupid tourists, and the bodyguard was making plans with the dead man's newly ex girlfriend, who he'd apparently been having an affair with...

Another passenger inquired about the delay and the steward assured him that it was nothing important and Panther's quirky grin spread widely.

Then they took off. He held Chief's hand during the ascent, but the younger man was relaxed and calm and simply snuggled closer to his broad chest and dozed back off when Panther cuddled him and stroked his back and silently told him how much he loved him.

They served an excellent vegetarian meal in first class.

That was one of the reasons Stephen always insisted on booking them in it.

* * * * * * *

"Well, that explains that."

Watching the news from his recliner, back at home between trips, Mike Cullen smiled at his wife as she glanced at him curiously.

"Egyptian police still have no leads in the shooting of American businessman William Franklin. Found dead in an airport bathroom last Tuesday, Franklin was..." the news announcer took this all very seriously.

"Did you know him?"

Cullen smiled. They had been married a very long time, and Emily seldom asked about his work, even now, when he was no longer a 'spy'. It was usually just easier, for her, to not know.

Bur since his retirement she had begun probing gently, curiously, and he gave her as much information as he could.

"We had met. I can tell you that he was a man who deserved whatever he got."

The widening of her dark eyes proved that she didn't quite agree with that, but she only patted his thigh and stood.

"That ice cream in the freezer is calling me...do you want some?"

"Might as well, there won't be any left by tomorrow night." He watched her leave the room, taking a minute to appreciate her grace and form. Seeing Panther and Chief again had reminded him painfully how precious love was.

Making a mental note to update his private file on them, he settled back, channel-surfing, and began to think about what they would do the next day. They were going to babysit the three youngest grandkids for the weekend while his daughter and her husband took a well-deserved break....

He would find a little bit of time to spend on his private research, of course. He always did.

** finis **


End file.
